He heard Michael working in one of the bed rooms. His room would be ready before sunrise and that was all that mattered. He looked at a welcome package on the dining room table. He unfolded a tourist map and traced the line of the Pacific Crest Trail as it passed by the star that announced, “You are here” with a ridiculous winking smiley face. He grimaced.
The map was not detailed at all but it had some distances. As far as he could tell he was only about thirteen miles or so away from the mountain itself. Michael could use several different locations to park during the night. There were no places that were truly near the summit of the mountain though, he would have to do some walking, or running to get where he needed to be. His pets would get some exercise then.
When Michael was finished preparing his room; he went in and slept against the rising sun.
That evening he was back in the trailer with his pets, traveling south ward along the freeway toward their parking destination for the night. Michael had already confirmed that his vehicle wouldn’t get towed by parking there and it was a favorite place for hikers and campers.
When the trailer opened, Kenneth stepped out, this time with five dominated wolves by his side. He looked up at the towering mountain over him. There was a foreboding sense about the place. The mountain’s snowcapped top jutted up into the sky, stabbing the heavens themselves. He inhaled deeply.
The sky was still splashed with bright oranges and reds from the setting sun. He moved away from the trailer. “I will be back an hour or so before sunrise.” He didn’t need to say anything more. With a last look at the mountain itself he began to run with his wolf slaves.
He pushed through onto a trail. The wolves loped next to him easily. He put more speed into his run and forced them to run faster. He didn’t want them to be exhausted, but he didn’t want them to be comfortable either.
He ran along the trail in the early evening, he felt the temperature fall around him. He was forced to slow down several times as he caught sight of nearby hikers or just people out for a nature walk. He just wanted them to not be here. He pushed past several and kept running.
He heard a few of them talk after he had passed about what ‘lovely dogs’ he had and how he must be really good in bed to be able to run like that. He shook his head and refocused on the mountain top.
After an hour or so he finally passed above the tree line. The mountain gently sloped up and away from him into the deepening night sky. He could see why new age children worshipped at this mountain’s alter. It was magnificent and being a volcano it was just as deadly as it was beautiful, if you were into worshipping nature and all things organic, like most of the fools who found their way into his clubs and farms.
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He turned back toward his slaves and through thought he communicated what he wanted. He formed images of wolves in his mind and forced that image into their consciousness. He twisted the wolf image into that of a werewolf and humans, both. The wolves sat, focused on his will, they internalized the images and sent back understanding. Kenneth threw out his arms from his sides and the wolves scattered.
He watched his slaves move effortlessly over the ground, eating distance. His pets would track and hunt for the images he had implanted inside their consciousness. They would hunt for wolf, human, and werewolves alike. Their scent may be unfamiliar to them but they would bring him to them.
Kenneth looked up at the snowcapped mountain towering over him. He could see faint circlets of clouds gather around the mountain’s peak. There was power here; he could feel it, the source of which he couldn’t quite tell though. Standing there looking up into the too wide-open night sky and the bright stars swathed across the heavens, he knew. They had to be here. He could feel it in his bones. He had looked long and hard for the wolves’ den and now he knew that he stood so close to it he could feel it. He just had to find the entrance.
Letting the flow of nature and fury fuel his legs he ran straight up the slope. He was a vampire first and foremost. He didn’t breathe, except to taste the cold air around him. He didn’t tire; his muscles were fueled by the dark forces that kept him among the living. His speed was beyond human comprehension and he was soon kicking up a cloud of snow powder behind him as he sped up the mountain.
Within ten minutes he was at the summit. He turned around in all directions. This was how humans felt like gods, standing here on top of the world. He knew that Mount Shasta wasn’t the highest, or even the most impressive peak even in North America, but the summit commanded this region.
He looked in every direction. The night sky was close enough to touch. He looked away from it, not wanting to dwell on how exposed he felt here.
He looked down the mountain and could see his five pets running up and along the mountain, with heads raised, tasting the air.
He turned around and looked at the mountain itself. The conical depression of the cap, where he stood, was in place against the eventual eruption that would probably happen again at some point. Yes, this was a place of power. Why didn’t he think of this before? Standing here, atop the dormant volcano he wondered how the werewolves had managed to have kept this place a secret from him for so long.
A wolf howl broke out through the night.
Kenneth twisted his body and darted down the mountain slope, sending up sheets of snow spray behind him.
His pet was standing in a copse of trees off the slopes of the mountain; he couldn’t see what was making it howl, or what had alerted it. He pushed himself to run faster.
He reached his slave and knelt down next to it. He took the wolf’s muzzle in his hand and stared deeply into its eyes.
The images that came forth were a little hazy and seemed to blend together. The scents of things that had passed this way made hazy, dreamlike images in his mind. A few men and women had passed this way. They seemed to walk in a blend of two and four legs. There were wolves that had passed this way as well. But their images were much hazier. The people and wolves walked in the same place, they blended together in the images but never coalesced into what he had shown them to be what a werewolf was. The images left by the scents in the dirt and trees went off toward the mountain.